


The Golden Years

by Petrichora_Vellichor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bobby and Rufus being grumpy old men, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Friendly Bickering, Gen, Harvelle's Roadhouse (Supernatural), Heaven, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Roadhouse in Heaven (Supernatural), friendly teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petrichora_Vellichor/pseuds/Petrichora_Vellichor
Summary: In which, now that Bobby’s finally enjoying retirement in the new Heaven, he’dreallylike to just forget about that one time he kissed Crowley. Unfortunately for him, Rufus has other plans.
Relationships: Bobby Singer & Rufus Turner, implied Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer
Kudos: 13





	The Golden Years

The best thing about this new Heaven business, thought Bobby as he sat in the Roadhouse, Ellen sliding him another bottle of Margiekugel, was that he finally got to spend time catching up with old friends.

“Hey Bobby,” said Rufus suddenly. He angled his glass of Johnnie Walker in Bobby’s direction. “Is it true you made out with a demon once?”

And the _worst_ thing about this new Heaven business, thought Bobby as he choked on his beer, was that his old friends were idjits. “Where’d the hell you hear _that?_ ”

“From Dr. Badass over there,” replied Rufus. He turned and nodded toward Ash who, without looking up from the game of pool he was playing against Jo, affirmed, “I know things.”

 _Dagnabbit..._ Bobby shot Ash a glare, mental wheels already spinning out a way to change the topic, but before he could say anything, Ellen raised a brow and asked, “Oh really?” She crossed her arms, and _yep_ , he was gonna have some explaining to do. “Who was she?”

Bobby swallowed. “Uh...well, you see, darlin’—”

“‘She’?” Rufus laughed. “Way I heard it, our Bobby locked lips with the King of Hell himself.”

“You made out with _Lucifer?_ ” Jo demanded, pool stick scraping the table as she missed her shot in surprise.

“Wha—no! _No_ ,” he reiterated, because if looks could kill, Ellen probably would’ve been the first human to commit actual murder in Heaven. Bobby sighed; there was no getting out of it now. “It was that Crowley idjit.”

A beat of silence; then—

“Huh.” Rufus took a drink. “Guess it _was_ true.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “And here I was thinkin’ Crowley had better taste.”

Bobby sputtered. “The hell do you mean, _better taste?_ ”

“I _mean_ ,” said Rufus, as though Bobby were being deliberately dense, “that I wouldn’ta thought he’d hook up with _your_ crusty old ass.”

Now, there was a _lot_ Bobby wanted to say to that, chief among it the fact that Crowley had damn near three centuries on him, but Jo got her words out first. “Wait,” she said, looking curiously at Rufus, “you know the guy?”

“Damn straight. Ran into him once or twice after the Apocalypse before _someone_ ,” he looked pointedly at Bobby, “got a Khan worm up his ass and decided to stab me. Didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him, but the man knew good scotch.” He looked Bobby up and down, pursing his lips. “Guess he was less particular in other areas.”

Bobby glowered. “I made a deal with him to help stop the _Apocalypse_ , and the slimy bastard nearly made off with my _soul_.”

Rufus shrugged. “You got it back.”

“Why you old—”

“Boys,” interjected Ellen, anger gone and a look of dry amusement on her face, “you mind takin’ your little squabble outside?” Then she shrugged and started wiping down the counter, adding wryly, “Or maybe to a room?”

“Oh _hell_ no,” said Rufus before Bobby could even begin to respond. “I can’t speak for that Crowley fella, but I know _I’ve_ got better taste than that.” He spared a smirk for Bobby. “No offense.”

Bobby opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to think of a good comeback. “Yeah, well,” he said at last, “at least _I_ know how many times to stab a damn Okami!”

Then they started bickering about monster lore and who’d saved whose ass more times and how if Rufus _really_ wanted to talk about low standards, Bobby was pretty sure Aretha had Crowley beat, and Ellen and Ash and Jo had _opinions_ , and Bobby still thought they were all idjits, but they were _his_ idjits, damn it. And there was nowhere else he’d rather be.


End file.
